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|25th Jan 2008, 07:38 PM||Falesyia Kermode - The Haven #1101|
“I’m not nearly as interesting as you, I assure you.” Ada’s response brought an amused smile to Falesyia’s lips. “Mostly, I sleep during the day. I’m a ‘creature of the night’ so to speak.” Falesyia nodded her head in understanding. She herself was a night owl of sorts. Posh usually died down enough that it no longer required her by three in the morning, landing her in bed by five. Having a day out in the sun was a rarity for her, but she had become used to it.
“I have a generous inheritance from my late husband, so I don’t require much income.” That statement had caught Falesyia by surprise. Ada didn’t seem old enough to have a husband that died already, unless it was a tragic, accidental death. Or unless she was a gold digger and had married someone many years her senior. Falesyia decided the former was more likely, as Ada didn't carry herself as someone who was after people's money. “I come here quite often, but when I’m not here I’m usually traveling abroad.”
Falesyia was quite intrigued by the woman. “I’m sorry to hear of your husband’s death. Never been married myself. “ she offered. “I think you underestimate yourself, as I would like to hear of the places you’ve been. I’m sure I would find them quite interesting. I myself have unfortunately rarely stepped foot out of LA.” Her eyes returned to rest on the woman’s face. “Of all the places you’ve been, which is your favorite?”
|25th Jan 2008, 08:22 PM||Valerian & Moira - Valerian's personal chambers at The Haven #1102|
It made sense. And it was a thought that had occured to Valerian earlier. In fact, it was one of the first thoughts that had crossed his mind when he'd laid eyes on regal beauty infront of him.
The reserved, almost professional air Moira had had about her at first, during the very birth of their first meeting, the aura that had now retreated to only peak through her slightly more relaxed exterior every now and then, leaving the warmth in her smile able to dance freely across her lips at will. The elegant posture, laced with pride and calm confidence, the wisdom shimmering in her eyes as she studied her surroundings, studied him, with a knowledgeable depth.
But one that didn't wish to flaunt it. Perhaps she didn't even want him to know it? Judging by faint shadow of surprise that momentarily lowered itself over her features, it was an observation, or rather a question, that she hadn't seen coming. And granted, perhaps his imagination had gotten the better of him. He had been far from sure, he had only been guessing, but with the air that had surrounded her, and her choice of words when mentioning the Antideluvians and the Primogen Council of London... All the pieces had seemed fit.
"Yes," she replied, confirming that even if his imagination had gotten slightly carried away, his instincts were not mistaken. "Toreador Primogen of London. Tonight however I wish to be just Moira, a guest in your Haven."
The young man simply inclined his head, as if saying that her wish was his command. Not because she was a Primogen, but because that was simply how he would've granted any request, no matter who had asked something of him. To be perfectly honest, he was more than happy to have her be 'just Moira', as it laid the foundation of getting to know her on a personal, relaxed level, and not just a professional one.
Like with Jessica... He had only had the pleasure of Moira's company for a little while, and already he felt far more of a connection with her than with his own Primogen, who, he felt, had never really taken an interest in knowing him as anything but Valerian, club owner and loyal subject. He had yearned for a closer relationship with her, but never gotten past that professional shield she always seemed to be carrying, at least around him. At first, being the sensitive young man he was, it had hurt him that much like Claudia, she seemed to see him as little more than a ditz. Though in Claudia's case, it was more about how she chose to treat him, than how she really thought of him. She was well aware that he was far from dull minded, and that he had a charisma and a magnetism that could bend the will and the perception of a human mind without resorting to Kindred abilities. She was even convinced that if he would just try, he'd even be able to have the same effect on some Kindred. But much to her dismay, he refused. Effecting the minds of others to uphold the Masquerade was one thing, effecting them for reasons far less noble, was another. One that he would not do.
However, in time he had accepted that Jessica just wasn't a Primogen that he was meant to relate to, and so her chilly detachment stopped hurting.
But it never ceased to bother him.
"Many years indeed have passed", Moira continued, changing the subject as if to show that she had no interest in discussing her title, "since I've been surrounded by such a vivid, encompassing and multi layered talent such as your own, centuries even. Or such creative ardor. It reminds me of the Renaissance..."
As her voice slowly faded, and she surrendered herself to the memories that surfaced in her ancient mind, Valerian couldn't help but experience something as rare and unfamiliar to him, as a small sting of envy.
The Renaissance... The word alone conjured mental images in his head, of what those times must've been like; the era that he had always felt he should've been born into, the era whose essence was in his very soul. It was a time he had never experienced, and yet he mourned it like the elderly mourn their long lost days of youth. Growing up in Victorian England, he had been a dreamer in a time for realists. He had never fit the ideals of his time. Even those who hadn't known him had been able to see that. If nothing else, then simply because the split from the rest of his family had spoken loud and clear.
"I wish I could show you a true glimpse of it," Moira continued as though she had read his mind. "It was the rebirth of many artists, and not only in a metaphorical sense, a driving force that even today I cannot quite describe, but I believe you will understand. There was also... a girl, a Muse incarnate. She inspired my greatest work."
Ever since their introductions, Valerian had sensed a fleeting sadness about her, a sorrow well hidden, but too great to be fully suppressed. He had caught glimpses of it in Moira's eyes, glimpses that had been growing stronger and more frequent ever since they stepped through the doors to his studio and chamber.
Now, her words about this girl, who had been, offered what to him sounded like an explanation. Moira had only referred to her in past tense only, telling him that no matter who the girl had been, she was no more. Mortal or Kindred, she no longer shared Moira's eternity, other than as a memory.
And at this very moment, he could feel her sorrow so vividly that it made him wince. Much like he had done with Beyonca last night at the ball, when she had spoken of the punishment she expected to recieve for her boldness. A mental flash of pain or grief, even one that wasn't real... No more was needed for Valerian to pick up on it, and feel it in every inch of his cold body, to have it ripple through his soul as though the anguish was his own.
He wanted to reach out, and touch her; pat her shoulder, or stroke her arm, in a gentle way of showing his understanding and his empathy. But before he could even start the motion, Moira suddenly turned and her determined gaze locked with his compasisonate one.
"Would you like to see it?"
Unexpected and firm, those were words that made Valerian's eyes almost widen with surprise. She was inviting him to see not just any work, but her greatest achievement, the piece that if she was given a choice to have only one work of her art define her as an artist, would be the one?
How could he possibly respond to such an offer, and not fail to fully express the honor she had granted him? He knew so very well that to some painters, it would be impossible. Many of them would choose to keep such pieces to themselves, sharing them with no one else. Sometimes out of jealousy, as though sharing this particular piece of exceptional art with the world would be like sharing their the person who had stolen their heart, and sometimes out of fear that the rest of the world would not see it's greatness.
"I...", he started, obviously overwhelmed and struggling to find a way to express it. "I... Words can not begin to describe... I would be so very delighted, and deeply honored, to see it."
He inclined his head once more, almost making it a full bow this time, and then glanced at the windows before turning his gaze back to her, his pale sapphire eyes slowly filling with heartfelt joy and enthusiasm, yet holding just a tiny hint of disappointment. One which was soon to be explained.
"I am far too eager to see it, to not be pained by what I myself am about to say," he continued. "But I fear tonight leaves us far too little time. Tomorrow perhaps, if you can spare the time time? If not, I will gladly make myself available at your earliest convenience."
(((ooc: Everyone - Ghanima has submitted her two characters to the site, so keep your eyes open for them, as I will be adding them within the next couple of hours. )))
|26th Jan 2008, 05:47 AM||#1103|
Join Date: Jul 2007
((no worries Ghanima. I'll have a reply up somethime tomorrow beacuse I'm at my friend's hous right now.))
|26th Jan 2008, 08:36 PM||Beyonca and Archon - Algernon #1104|
Join Date: Jan 1970
Just as she felt like she had made him proud for some of her feelings, she feared once again dissapointment filled him. He was not happy to hear she would talk to him again. Once again it was no surprise to her. It would be wise for her not to talk to him again. But she woundered if it was just her Primogen telling her that staying away from him was in her best intrest or was their some feeling their for her. Did she have a spot in his dead heart at all? It was usually easy for her to make room in someone for herself, but he was different. He was not only ventrue but her Primogen. She would not try to wedge her way in nor would she try to see if she was already their. So the decision in her dead was he was just looking out for her as an elder would for a young.
"The Tremere are not to be trusted", he emphasised. "You can not depend on any clan but your own. The Tremere do not invite us, so if you go and fraternize with them, you do so at your own risk. And when it comes to the hunter, I can not stress enough that you must be careful. I would not forbid you to communicate with him even if I could, but I would be much more at ease had you given me the slightest impression that you fully understood what it entails."
Everyword he spoke, Beyonca took to heart. It was best of her to listen to him and do as he says. She didnt want to let him down again. It was true that she knew of all the details of what could happen. All the unspeakable things that could happen to her. Was he right that eternity seemed boring to her? Is that was all this was about? Was she truely just wishing he would try and succeed? It didnt sound like something she would feel. She might be lonely, but her finally death was something that she wasnt looking forword to. No, she didnt fear it, but she was hoping for it to come.
"This is how this is going to work", he concluded. "I will send word to our clan that the matter is resolved. That should ease some of the tension, and give you safe passage. What you do after you leave my office is up to you, but I have lived for more than half a millenium, and I do think I know a thing or two."
Yes this was her Primogen speaking. No feeling there. He was mad at her once again. He thought of her as someone who goes and looks for trouble, which isnt something she wishes at all. Staying off the radar was something she actually wanted at the moment. Trouble wasnt a wish she had. It was nice to know he would give her safe passage. She just hoped all would listen to hi in the clan. Some might take it to their Ventrue blood that she was no good for the clan anymore.
"Should you run into the hunter again, mind this: Do not let him come too close. He is a Tremere. They can conjure spells out of thin air, and we do not know what this particular Tremere has in store for us, even if he is a newborn. Make me proud, Miss Beyonca."
Bee felt like their was a sincere remark in the statment. Did he truely worry for her in a way? Was their already a place in his heart for her. Maybe so. Primogens have often felt like a father to their clan, did he think of her as a daughter. Bee blew the thought out of her mind. It was something she should be dwelling on at the moment.
"I know full of what could happen should I come to speak of him again. It has ran over in my mind several times since I first spoke to him last night. I a sure you that I will not seek him out. I will only speak to him if he seeks me or we happen to cross paths again. I maybe young Primogen, but I am not nieve. I will be on my best deffences around him and from now on."
Her eyes fell to the floor while in thought of what to say next. Did he really think she was bored with the thought of living for eternity or was it something he just said. She would think that as for he is a ventrue, he said what he really thought.
"I am not bored with eternity. I dont wish for it to end here anytime soon, so I promise I will be careful. I will do my best to make you proud."
((ooc: I know it is very late. But stupid people at work keep making me stay late and i have been sick for 3 days now. So I am running on very low fumes here. Sorry if the post isnt all that great.))
|26th Jan 2008, 08:43 PM||#1105|
(((ooc: Great to see you back, innoscent, sick or not! :companion Hope you feel better soon.
Just to let everyone know; we're moving on to the next night tomorrow, in about 26 hours.)))
|26th Jan 2008, 10:25 PM||Archon DeWinter & Beyonca - Archon's office at Algernon #1106|
#24 [Seventh Night]
"I will do my best to make you proud", Beyonca concluded her respons.
It seemed to the Ventrue Primogen that his words had been rather well recieved, despite the circumstances. Although Beyonca did not look like she agreed with all that he had said, she managed to answer him in a manner that put him at ease, making him believe she had understood and was going to try hard to indeed make him proud. He had not intended for her to fold entirely, that would have made him nervous and made him wonder what she was really thinking. A little resistance was expected, even though it mainly laid in her demeanor, and not in her words. This way, he knew she was not trying to divert his attention. She was smart enough to know that would not work. Her Primogen was cunning, and he knew her too well. Beyonca chose the right way to do things, in his presence, and for that he could only respect her.
Satisfied with her respons, Archon deemed their meeting over. They exchanged a few pleasantries, similar to the ones he had not cared for when she arrived, and then he sent her on her way. If he had been able to draw a deep breath, like the kine did when they had done away with a burden on their shoulders, he would have. Now he merely leaned back in his chair, contemplating their encounter. Just like Beyonca, he was not althogether pleased, but as far as he could have hoped. He could not controle her, or any other Kindred. It was not his wish either. But he did have some concern for her future, for the choices she could be tempted to make. Adrien de la Cour had proven himself to be a most dangerous component to their endless nights. Some Kindred might feel he would "spice things up", but Archon was not that desperate for some action. He could just as easily do without the hunter. Not just easily; preferably.
And as for the other members of the Ventrue clan; they would leave Beyonca alone, if they knew what was good for them. The Ventrue was not the clan that would condone members that tried to play jury, judge and executioner on their own blood. No clan really would. Not without a blood hunt or a cause that was as solid as the perfect armor. Beyonca's mistakes belonged to only one man; their Primogen. And he would be damned if he let anyone tell him how to run things. He had handled himself very well as Primogen, there was no reason to complain. Some did, at times, but that was only healthy since it helped him develope his leadership. It was if the complain should turn into a challenge that they had a problem. Archon was right at home in his position, he would not let it go without a fight of the century.
A few more details demanded his attention, delaying him a bit longer in his office, before he could finish up and join the Kindred on the other floors. He made a couple of phone calls, answered an electronic mail or two and went through the last pile of paper. When all was said and done for this time around, Archon locked the office door behind him and took the stairs.
Algernon had not been opened for very long, but was already in business. This warmed his stonehenged heart, and even brought a hint of a smile upon his lips. Others hade taken a liking to his idea, making it prevail. Most successful ideas were simple, something anyone could do, but not necessarily with such flare. And since he was a Ventrue, not really the flare clan, he was especially happy for himself. He had taken something common and built it out of the ordinary, making it a tempting meeting place for his kind. Of course, this was the first night. Archon would not go ahead of himself, but wait until a sufficient amount of time had passed, before he could really estimate how well he had done. Still, that did not prevent him from appreciating it at the moment.
The kine came because of the books, but also because of the atmosphere, something only the Kindred could create. No kine would ever know, and live. And the Kindred came because of their own creation, and for the books and the conversations they would have among them. Well, the Kindred that could appreciate them...
Archon stopped at the end of the stairs, as his eyes landed on an old Kindred far across the open space, in the opposite corner. Very old indeed, maybe older than Archon. He could feel it, he could see it. It was a Malkavian, a man long ago parted from his senses. He stood facing the meeting walls, with a book in his tight grasp, while he was enjoying himself immensly. It did not seem to bother the giggling man, that the book was not only up side down, but with the cover towards him. One could not tell if he was just mad, or really on to something. He exchanged a few words with himself, just a mere whisper, but Archon could tell from the moving lips. The man also tugged his shirt, as if he wanted to get his own attention to what ever he had on his mind. Archon left the staircase, and when he came closer to the middle of the floor, the Malkavian turned his head over his shoulder and looked right at him. It only lasted for a few seconds, then he closed the book, and walked to greet him.
Talking to a member of the mad ones was really... a treat. Well, sometimes it could amuse, but often it just puzzled the mind too much. On rare occasions, Archon had been envolved when the words from a Malkavian had lead to discover something great or just been used to prevent, promote or threaten. They did harvest the truth now and then, leaving the other clans with an eerie feeling. To see the world from behind those eyes for just one night... Archon assumed one would go mad, despite not being a Malkavian.
More Kindred greeted him, a few kine were curious when they layed eyes on him, as he came down to the first floor. He visited the counter by the entrance, exchanging a few words with Julia, his Tremere associate. The whole time, from the moment he took part of the activites on the second floor, Roe had been watching him and the others closely. Algernon was not yet an Elysium. It would take some time for the Prince to decide, as with all new locations, regardless of the lineage of the owner.
Archon stayed a few more hours, socializing with his guests, even the kine. Though they did not consider themselves to be quests, but customers, Archon treated them as if they were. He did not want to look at them as kine customers, not his opening night, since it would make him seem unavailable. And that was not good for business. Archon left an hour before his Ventrue associate closed Algernon until the next night. He did not want to be there when the building emptied, since many things could happen when people were on the move.
((( ooc: innoscenteyes - I hope this works for you. )))
|27th Jan 2008, 12:34 AM||Ada Von Vita - The Haven #1107|
Join Date: Jan 1970
“I’m sorry to hear of your husband’s death. Never been married myself." Falesyia said. "I think you underestimate yourself, as I would like to hear of the places you’ve been. I’m sure I would find them quite interesting. I myself have unfortunately rarely stepped foot out of LA.” Her eyes returned to rest on the woman’s face. “Of all the places you’ve been, which is your favorite?”
Ada smiled grimly, becoming uncharacteristically shy as she studied the polished surface of the bar. " If you had know my husband, I doubt you would have shared the same sentiment." She whispered cryptically, glancing away as memories flooded her. Her weaker, doe eyed self, quaking in fear under the blows of his knotted fists and sharp yells. "What is my favorite place..?" Ada wondered out loud, quickly changing the subject. "I'm rather partial to Auvergne, a province of France. It's somewhat more touristy now, but it use to be wonderfully peaceful."
|27th Jan 2008, 01:07 AM||Carmilla Le Fanu - Tremere mansion, streets, The Haven, Algernon #1108|
#29 [Seventh Night]
The mansion felt unearthy, more than usual, when Carmilla opened her eyes that night. She could feel the silence, weighing heavily within her cold body. It was as if she had been drained, until she was an empty vessel, craving for nutrition. As she stood from her bed, she felt she stepped into a haze. A mirage of different shades of black, some deeper than others, some just downright frightening. Since she did not have the strength to focus, she was grateful that she had asked another Tremere in the mannor for some clothes, instead of waiting. Carmilla did not want to wear the clothes Seath had chosen for her, the ones she wore almost regardless of where they were going. As if she was his personal little princess, in beautiful gowns and tiaras.
Last night had been appropriate for such an attire, but this was just an ordinary night. Well, not as ordinary as it would have been, had the hunter not presented himself. But it was ordinary in the regards of clothes, just another night in the possession of the undead. Thus, Carmilla dressed herself in grey, in order to disappear. She had on a skirt that ended by the knees, pantyhose and a cardigan. All in grey, except for a black top and black shoes with a low heel. This would secure her becoming one with the dark. She wanted to walk among the shadows, and not be the center of attention. If anyone could see her now... There was a glow about her, as she studied herself in the mirror. At that moment, she finally looked the part she played within the Tremere clan. Nothing imperial about it, but for a Tremere, she did look like she had something up her sleeve.
Before leaving the mansion, Carmilla opened the bag she had also borrowed. It was large enough to fit a notebook, and couple of books. She carried it over her shoulder, across the chest, almost looking like a little school girl. Or like an Addams. She smiled at the thoughts that ran through her head, all the tales her blood told her around the camp fire of her unchained heart. What knowledge would capture her this night? Which Kindred would she meet? What treats did the city have in store for her? She could hardly wait, as she sat foot on the pavement, ready to venture the domain. First thing's first though; a drink of fresh kine blood, to eraze the mist.
Carmilla did the unbelievable that night. She managed to wander the streets and visit The Haven in of a certain someone, without meeting anyone she knew. She went by the new place, Algernon, since the rumours had reached her at the nightclub. The Kindred on the second floor was graced by her appearance, but there was no familiar face. And she thought she knew every Tremere, at least by their exterior. But no, even the Tremere by the entrance was new to her. Maybe this was just one of those nights, when nothing seemed to add up. One explanation could be her wish to be invisible, to join the shadows. It could have been such a strong feeling, that it turned into a spell that made her unavailable to others. The ones she knew where out there, she just happened to be where they had just been, or turn away when they appeared. Or they could see her, but simply not notice her.
At first, she didn't know if she liked it at all. But when she thought about it, the situation appealed to her. It was rather funny, actually. The city was hers, as long as she stayed silent and communicated with the shadows. A spell or not, she would take the opportunity to explore it. This was her lesson for the night, although she had experienced it before. The ability to conjure without even thinking about it, a natural force that made a simple wish into reality. At least some kind of reality. It was a small thing, something pure an innocent. It did become her, as she was both menacing and immaculate.
It was an easy thing, nothing that demanded much from her. It was not tiresome, it did not steal from her powers. It was like the wink of an eye, a human breath or the moon rising and setting as always. Thus making her wonder if it was hardly a spell at all.
Be careful what you wish for...
Maybe she was all alone... The silence might not be just within her, but all around her. It could be her wish to be free from her Sire, to venture on her own. Was this the price, feeling isolated among others? But it didn't get to her, as she found the beauty in it. There was much to see, even when you couldn't share it with anyone.
Carmilla wanted to go to Mina, to see if she was still real. Just as real as this night felt unreal. However, her Primogen had more important things to tend to, than her trials and tribulations. Mina had helped to set her free, and it would only be fair to expect Carmilla to find her strength. Especially now, with a hunter on the loose in their immortal realm.
Although Carmilla was strong, she did weaken in the meere though of Mina. She would surrender to that beautiful Tremere Elder, if needed. And now, this fateful night, she had to honor what Mina had bestowed upon her, and walk back to the mansion with her head held high. A myriad of opposite feelings, twirling around each other, filled Carmilla as she made her way back to her own haven.
((( ooc: Sorry for a not very good post... I did not have as much time today as I thought I would have. )))
|27th Jan 2008, 02:42 AM||Falesyia Kermode - The Haven #1109|
Perhaps Falesyia had taken their polite conversation a bit too far. As Ada seemed to force a sad grin. The hint of a woman mistreated soon surfaced as her eyes studied the bar. “If you had known my husband, I doubt you would have shared the same sentiment.” The simple, barely audible statement penetrated her, making her want to apologize for entirely different matters. However, they sat in a night club, not a therapist’s office, she was certain the beautiful young lady didn’t wish to open her past to a mere stranger.
As if to confirm her thoughts were correct, Ada quickly changed the subject. “What is my favorite place…?” As Ada began to speak, Falesyia felt her clutch shake on her lap. Her phone was interrupting her night out. “I’m rather partial to Auvergne, a province of France.” Ada continued as Falesyia began to open her purse. “It’s somewhat more touristy now, but it used to be wonderfully peaceful.”
If she had not been distracted Ada’s statement would have brought some curiosity to Falesyia’s mind. Instead she gave a polite smile as she apologized. “I’m sorry, I need to take this.” She opened the phone and placed it at her right ear, as she plugged her left in effort to hear better.
It wasn’t but two seconds before she rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes.” She agreed simply. “Send Brody please.” She closed her phone and put it back in her clutch as she began to excuse herself. “I am sorry, as it seems my night was not quite finished.” She reached to take one more quick sip of her drink before leaving. As she stood she looked to Ada. “I am glad you wanted the ‘louder view’. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”
After they had exchanged their brief words, Falesyia walked once again to the doors that she had entered less than an hour before. She had to stand just a few minutes outside as Brody came back around to pick her up. After she climbed into the limo she sat back in the seat exhaling all the air inside her slender body. She had enjoyed herself, Ada proved to be a refreshing change in conversation partners. Yet the task ahead of her did not allow her to relax entirely.
((OOC: Sorry Penny. I just thought I’d wrap things up before Atropa announces the next night. Hope it was okay.))
|27th Jan 2008, 04:38 PM||#1110|
Moira and Valerian - The Haven
For a fleeting moment, Moira feared that her invitation had been too sudden, too premature. There was no mistaking the look of surprise welling in Valerian's widened eyes, even as his lips quivered to form an answer.
And indeed, the Toreador Primogen's sudden decision to unveil her most jealously guarded painting, and one surrounded by so many layers of dubious history, in front of the eyes of a man she had just met would have seemed odd, if not shallow, to one who did not know Moira Sushill.
By nature alone, she was a predator, instinct being one of the sharpest and most aware parts of her consciousness, a tool used not only for hunting prey. If her cool intellect and rational, business-like mind were what made Moira unusual for a Toreador, her ability to remain deeply attuned to that instinctive insight which her clan wielded with such finesse and others dismissed as fickle or reckless was part of her deep bond with Arikel's bloodline. Showing Josephine's portrait to Valerian had been a decision put into motion by that sudden rush of comprehension, not only towards him but herself and the reason she had come to Los Angeles in the first place.
Moira had left her adoptive home land in of something England and all of her old haunts across Europe could not offer: closure. Resolving the centuries-old issue surrounding the painting and her lost creativity - in essence, ending her mourning of Josephine's death and banishing the ever looming shadow Matthias Cornellus, her sire, wove around her every night that went by and his ancient blood coursed still in her veins. Moira felt that once she was able to do that, her inspiration would return; the embers were still there, they only needed a spark to kindle the fire.
"I...I... Words can not begin to describe... I would be so very delighted, and deeply honored, to see it."
Moira returned a slight nod of acknowledgment, her eyelids lowered in a silent “thank you” for a brief instant. An almost otherworldly aura surrounded her, something incomprehensible as the fact that a 22 year old looking body concealed a heart which had not beat for more than half a millennium. It was the accumulation of years and death and too many memories which accentuated that subtle yet definite difference in all Kindred, but so much more obvious in the case of Elders, the fact that they were no longer human.
The reason why she had chosen him was clearest to her then; not based on how long they had known each other, but her belief that out of all Kindred she knew, he would understand best. Moira had acquaintances dating back to the very century of her Embrace who lacked the empathy necessary, or the vision to look beyond the images depicted; however, buoyant youth and a humanity that was all but intact were virtues she prized and had been pleased to find in Valerian. It was no wonder that art was one of the few things mortals excelled at.
"I am far too eager to see it, to not be pained by what I myself am about to say," Valerian continued, disappointment mingling in his voice. "But I fear tonight leaves us far too little time. Tomorrow perhaps, if you can spare the time time? If not, I will gladly make myself available at your earliest convenience."
Moira's gaze moved towards the windows; the world outside was as pitch dark as ever, but her senses confirmed what Valerian had just said; dawn was not far, the lethargy which came with it tugging at the corners of her awareness.
“I am grateful, Valerian. I was hoping you would agree to my invitation, considering how...impromptu it is. Alas, time has rushed past us. One of the advantages of being a guest is that time is rarely an issue – tomorrow evening suits me perfectly. How does 10 pm sound?”
Retrieving one of her hotel's business cards from inside her purse, Moira added the number to her room to the back and handed it to Valerian.
“Until tomorrow then?” she said and with a final goodbye, they parted. Minutes later, Moira's heels trotted swiftly on the pavement outside the Haven, the sound soon to be lost in the general hubbub of traffic disgorging an endless array of vehicles through Los Angeles' streets.
((ooc: sorry, I'm tired and I rambled a lot in this one. I hope the ending works for you, Atropa.))
If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
|27th Jan 2008, 04:52 PM||#1111|
(((OOC: Ghanima - Works very well, indeed, and sounded lucid enough to me. Thank you for wrapping it up.
6 hours to go.)))
|27th Jan 2008, 08:47 PM||Mina - Personal Office in the Museum #1112|
Join Date: Jan 1970
((OOC life has been complicated but Im back at home now, hopefully for good. So the below is just me trying to get the feel of writing back and give Mina a reason for being away for a night.
Please imagine Zillah has been up to no good all night, doing dubious dealings in the seedy parts of town. :P
Shenanigans! - its great to see you here, hope you are having much fun.
Atropa/Psyche/Penny hope its all OK with you and I got your characters right - I feel really out of practice. ))
The office was filled with a deep musky scent, incense burning upon an altar sending smoky tendrils into the atmosphere. The only light was the harsh glow of a computer screen. The stark white brilliance cast its shadows upon Mina's face making the sculptured cheekbones sharper ,the anglur jawline pointier. Her catlike gaze was unwavering as her drawn mouth set into a sharp line of concentration. She did not blink, unmoving as a statue as she absorbed the lines of texts that scrolled before her, the only movement the sliding of one pale slender finger against the ball of the mouse. Lines upon lines of script reeled upon the screen to be absorbed into the ancient mind. Pearls of wisdom gathered into her neural net and strung together into a mesh of knowledge. The tightly encripted email referred to the deeds of a certain Tremere, veiled notes made by a guarded hand that contained the information she desired not within the plain text but within what was missing, the subtilties hinted to that a skilled mind drew from within the lines.
The notes on one disapearence in particular brought a vaguly cruel smile to her crimson mouth. Her sires alias there in black and white amongst the other supspected victimns. The dates followed by a question mark indicating that no further sitings, witness or body had been found. How very conveniant that there had been a sighting of a certain Tremere in Europe around that time. She wasnt sure whether her broken tale of how she had been seperated from her sire had been accepted by the council. But here the disappearance was relating to the notorious killer. Just another tragicly vanishing vampire condemned to mystery and woven into the legand surrounding Adrien De Le Cour.
As she reached the end of the fiinal paragraph her eyes closed, briefly drowning her in crimson darkness as though sealing the glimpses of knowledge within. The message had given her nothing but the sheer bareness of facts. Vampiric disapearances that could be linked to sightings of the Tremere in the surrounding area. Inferences that would never stand in a court of law. And nothing on motive, no cause or effect. It seemed to them he was just a butterfly spreading death like chaos all around every pavement he stepped. But she had seen another side, had glimpsed the man beneath the arrogance if only for the briefest of moments.
A shadow of a memory crossed her mind,of her sire, the man she had loved, had dedicated her life to, traveling faithfully with him, learning from him, sharing every experience, each treasured moment with him. Only to face the bitter pain of betrayal. Everything she had believed of him swept away with a few words uttered in a moment of anger. The flame of passion, the warm spirit of hope banished to leave a cold void where once her heart had been. She had been left only with the madness of revenge, but even when that had been taken, and she knew he had met his final death, the cold numbness did not disapaite.
And then Mina had met Adrien, had begun to feel again. She had momentarily lowered her defenses to allow someone to come closer to her, only to face another betrayal of trust. A stab in the heart far more lethal than the pointed stake. But that revenge still had to be served. Though it would take on the guise of protecting her clan, a lioness defending her cubs from the predator. Personal revenge was frowned upon by the Tremere. So it would be done for the good of the whole, to protect the seven. Each step carefully calculated from the knowledge she had dedicated this night to gaining. When and where to strike, her enemies vulnerabilities, meticulously drawn together into a scheme that would be executed with cold, lethal precision.
She hovered briefly, a moments hesitation before pressing the delete button wiping all traces of the e-mail from the server. But even as the first hints of daylight began to weave their faint purple hues into the black sky her thoughts did not settle. Turning to consider the other affairs of her clan that brought trouble into the midst. Carmilla taking her first steps as a freed slave, her sires chains broken but also the protective dependance shattered around her for the first time since her embrace. Mina longed to send out a beacon to her, a light to guide her down the right path. But Carmilla must stand upon her own two feet, prove herself worthy of the Tremere and strive her own independance. Mina could take her under her wings only if Carmillas independant spirit drove her to the Chantry with the desire for knowledge and learning. The fateful Ada, banished to learn some manners. A wry smile crept over her lips at the thought. She did not doubt the woman would cause her more trouble in the future with her untamed spirit. But everyone was embraced into the Tremere for a reason so no doubt Ada's path was divined by the elders.
Shutting down the computer, a whispered hum before blackness sank upon the room. Still Mina;s vampiric eyes detected the familiar bumps and edges of the furniture around. She was satisfied she had done all she could this night. Tomorrow the foundations would be laid.
The slightest hint of a smile still brushed across her ruby lips, a smile laced with hope and plans of revenge as Mina closed her glinting emerald orbs. Sheltered within the darkness she slept as the blazing sun ascended the sky filling the world around with its golden rays of warmth.
|27th Jan 2008, 08:54 PM||#1113|
((yay! Welcome back, we missed you and Mina Just in time for a new night too!))
If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
|27th Jan 2008, 09:03 PM||#1114|
(((ooc: veldagia - Well, I did it before, but I'm gonna do it again; :companion We're so glad to have you back. And out of practice my ***. Everything was great! Poor Adrien. *snickers*
Oh yeah, I almost forgot; 2 hours left.)))
|27th Jan 2008, 09:35 PM||#1115|
((OOC: Ooo!!! Oooo!!! It's veldagia!! WELCOME BACK!! So glad to see you too! ))
|27th Jan 2008, 10:14 PM||#1116|
Aeode Mallard - Leaving the Haven
Darkness engulfed Aeode's thin frame as soon as she emerged out of the Haven's service exit which was immediately shut behind her, obliterating all source of light in the alley separating the club from the next building. A chilly draft ruffled her hair, carrying with it a dank scent of mold and decay; Aeode crinkled her nose in distaste, stuffed both hands inside her pockets, and began a short but lonely walk down the alley, light increasing in intensity with each step she took.
Words and images surged in her mind, the tangled web of recent memories from that evening's shift serving drinks at The Haven. No matter what new thought path she attempted, or what theory took shape, all was inevitably laced with the presence of one person: Jessica. Aeode would have dismissed it as a coincidence on a good day, but she had been having a whole string of rather tense and disquieting days, making it increasingly difficult to believe it was all just a twisted finger of fate at work and none of the events were related.
The dull rumble of a motor reached her ears; a bike was approaching steadily, its hood a flickering reflection of the streetlights bent outwards on the pavement's edge. Aeode slowed her pace, although the leather trenchcoat-clad biker had no trouble at all catching up to her; moments later, Dez' toothy grin greeted her from beneath his helmet.
“Hey, kiddo...how was your night?” he said loudly and warmly; his Southern accent permeating his voice as it always did.
“Long,” Aeode answered and moved her arms to accept the second helmet. “Yours?”
“The same. Haven't slept a wink though I wanted to...boy have I got news for you!”
Aeode laughed grimly and mounted herself onto the bike; it took her several seconds to realize Dez was expecting something; failing to understand what, she frowned in confusion.
“What? Aren't ya gonna kiss me?”
The young woman blinked several times as she recollected herself; her head was filled with everything except kissing, but naturally she should have expected some things to change after their earlier encounter. Choking out a weak smile, Aeode leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Dez' lips, though she could not help experiencing a twinge of regret at this new twist in their relationship: it made everything so weird.
“I'm just messin' with ya” Dez said and ruffled her hair playfully. “You know that, right? Just trying to lift your mood a little, you seem down.”
“Just tired...and worried. Yep, definitely plenty of worries for me today...you're not the only one who's got news.”
“Well in that case let's get going, shall we? It seems we have a lot to talk about.”
With an almighty roar, the bike and its two passengers darted away and disappeared around a sharp corner; one after another, the street lamps died as the first rays of light crept across Los Angeles' sky.
((ooc: Phew just in time!))
If wishes were fishes we'd all cast nets
|27th Jan 2008, 11:04 PM||#1117|
(((ooc: Alright everyone, we have now officially moved to the new thread )))
|17th May 2009, 12:59 PM||#1118|
Posting for non-purge purposes.
|7th Nov 2010, 05:46 AM||Please reply!!!! #1119|
What clan you belong to: Gangrel
Age:-Neonate 132/bitten at age 19
Disciplines: animalism Level 3: Spectral Wolf
Short bio: Misty is an out going girl. Enjoys sitting in trees fights against the demons on our earth. The day a wolf demon cursed her and forced her to run away from her loved ones. From then on she walked as a vampire scared as she was the demon wolfs never left they roam with her every were. She’s a badass girl. And she will fight till she’s right. she doesn’t give up easily and makes even the devil cry she walks down the hall and people already start begging for mercy but this girl is not all tough she has a great fear of the nights with no moon. She also pushes herself to hard sometimes. Day dreams about the person who saved her he goes by the name Dante. Maybe one day shell sees him once again all she can do is wish. She has scars down her back and legs. She carries a sword on her back it goes by the name mercy and to hand guns in her back pockets there names are bada and bang. she has demonic blood in her body and she has a key to the underworld.
just in case you cant see the pic heres the link[URL=http://media.photobucket.com/image/wolf%20%20girl%20anime/havoclvr/Anime/WolfSummon.jpg?o=57]http://media.photobucket.com/image/wolf%20%20girl%20anime/havoclvr/Anime/WolfSummon.jpg?o=57[/URL]
|7th Nov 2010, 08:43 AM||#1120|
metal topdog - While we always do like to see a new face, it IS considered good form to read the last couple of posts of a thread, and also look at the last posting date. As stated by myself only 3 posts up, this thread was continued in a new one, and thus hasn't been posted in for almost three years.
Over those three years, the RP itself has also moved to a new location, found here. You're more than welcome to join us there. Though do keep in mind, this is a fairly realistic RPG (as realistic as one centered around vampires can be), and thus demons do not exist, and being cursed by one isn't how one becomes a vampire.